Freestyle musings from a pseudo-intellectual hellcat in high heels with Huxtable aspirations in a ghetto fab world. Proudly sponsored by bouts of bitchy mood swings, one too many swigs of Turning Leaf, the letters F & U and the madness that is the Rotten Apple.

...then you must not acquit! My, my, my...what a tangled web is weaved when the American public is continually deceived. I love the smell of indictments in the morning, don't you? In a stunning turn of events, the vice president's chief of staff, I. Lewis Libby was charged with 5 (!!!!) counts in connection to the findings of the CIA leak investigation and has turned in his resignation effective immediately. Led by special counsel Patrick Fitzgerald, this marks the first time in 135 years that a sitting White House aide met such a distinction. In a time of war no less. Smells like treason, doesn't it Ann Coulter? The breaking news makes for a reason to toast it up at after work happy hours from coast to coast. Here's a cocktail to add to your repertoire in celebration of the GOP's armor chinks being exposed more fast and furious than a Cam'ron carjacking.

Place the details of Valerie "Blond. Jane Blond" Plame's identity into cocktail shaker along with heaping doses of vendetta and retribution. Muddle the confidentiality revealed from Dick Cheney in your role as the proverbial Tweety bird to NY Times bedfellow Judy Miller until top-secret info's released. Makes a maximum of 30 (years in the clank) servings.

"I will not end the investigation until I can look anyone in the eye and tell them we have carried out our responsibility sufficiently," Fitzgerald said, [source: The Washington Post]

Just in case you thought the portly prince of darkness gets to walk away scot free from this impasse, rethink that stance. Ramifications of this scandal is reverberating with the force of a thunderclap and clearly the merry minions at 1300 Pennsylvania Avenue are all a-flutter about the guillotine landing squarely on the architect of the "criminalization of politics" head. The no-frills, thorough demeanor of the prosecutor (who wisely refrained from taking the bait of voracious reporters at the press conference looking for slivers of red meat quotables) has Rethuglican cronies shaking in their Brooks Brothers suits with reason. It's beginning to look a lot like Fitzmas.